Page 131 of Burning Ember
I snake my hand into her hair and pull her closer. “Don’t leave,” I plead with her.
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
She steals a glance in the direction Dozer walked off. “I don’t want to come between you two,” she says again.
“You won’t. It’ll just take some time for him to get over the sting of it.”
“I just . . . he’s the only one who looked out for me. I feel like I owe him. He was right, Mav. Where would I be if he didn’t convince you to let me stay?” Her eyes are clouded with pain and it nearly breaks me.
Fuck.She’s right.
If he hadn’t fought for her. God knows where she’d be or what she’d be doing.
I hook my arm around her neck and bring her in close. Then circle my other arm around her waist and hug her to me. “You’re right. I’ll fix it. I’ll talk to him when he cools down. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
She breathes out a relieved sigh and wraps her arms around me. And I know I’ll do any-fucking-thing it takes to keep her by my side. To have her just like this always, wrapped around me, near me, tellin’ me when I’ve done wrong. Making me be the man I should be.
“This is not how I wanted this night to go, Doll.”
“I know. Me neither.”
“I had a different ending in mind.”
She’s silent for a long time and then whispers, “Me too.”
I pull back a little and look down into her face. “Come home with me,” desperation and need thicken my voice. “I need some time alone with you.”
She does her little nod and rests her chin on my chest.
“Will you ride on the back of my bike?”
“Only if you go slow. I’ve never ridden on a bike before.”
Thank Christ.
I don’t think I could bear it if I knew she’d givin’ up that first ride to someone else. I may not have taken her virginity, but I’ll have plenty of firsts and lasts with her and I’m going to cherish every one.
“I told you before, Doll. You control this. If you want slow, we go slow.” I rub her back and place my lips on her forehead. “Now let’s say our goodbyes. I wanna take you home.”
We often ride a fine line between what will break us and set us free.
EMBER
The purr of the motor vibrates through every one of my limbs. We’ve been riding for a few minutes, and the anxiety I felt when Mav initially pulled out of the lot has faded. He handles the bike with cool confidence. Shifts gears with calculated precision. It also helps that he warns me each time we’re about to come up on a turn. Each time, he removes his hand from the handle bar and rests it for a few seconds on my thigh, something that sends chills spreading over my skin.
I keep waiting for the air skating around me to cool down some of this heat building between our bodies. Or maybe numb the steady hum of anticipation flowing under my skin. But it does neither.
The bike slows down, and I peek over Mav’s shoulder. We’re coming up to a rural side street. This time, when his hand leaves the handle bar, I inhale a steadying breath, bracing myself for the onslaught of desire that’ll hit from his touch. But instead of caressing my leg, he lays his palm over the hand I have covering his chest.
My own heart begins to skip to an obnoxious beat. An erratic rhythm I didn’t know it was capable of.
But too soon, his hand is gone and Mav takes the turn. I gently lean with him. Afterward, he accelerates but not to the speed he was going before. The next time the bike slows, it’s to pull into the driveway of a gorgeous, stucco two-story home, nearly the size of the clubhouse. The home is newer, has a three-car garage, and a huge yard.
Mav parks and turns off the bike. After kicking down the stand, he twists to look at me.
“Too fast?”
